


Scrutiny

by LanxBorealis



Series: What We Can't See, What We Can't Hear, What We Can't Say [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dark, Sad, Short, feels kinda like Over The Garden wall, lost in a forest, not sorry, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanxBorealis/pseuds/LanxBorealis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to 'Trust' and 'Certainty'] Normally, he didn't worry. There was never a need to before. Until now, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scrutiny

He stared out the window.

Where had those two gone now?

He had looked all over the house, yelling threats to the two siblings to stop fooling around and stop hiding. 

He had got no answer.

At first, he wasn't too surprised. Dipper had been sullen recently. Sullen, quiet, and very not Dipper. 

It hurt him, as much as he hated to admit it. Dipper's distrust of him cracked his hard and prickly heart. Cracked it open, ever so slightly. Thin, but there. He loved the kid. Of course, he would never say that out loud, never really admit to it. He's dance around the question, give half-answers and distractions. It was simply the kind of person he was. 

So, seeing the barely veiled dislike in the twelve-year-old's eyes, seeing those same brown eyes, warm and loving before so cold and distant now put a wedge inside him. The boy even actively did his best to avoid pretty much everyone. 

He sighed as he looked out the window. Sure, he wasn't surprised when Dipper never answered his summons, but when even Mabel didn't so much as yell she was busy, or in the bathroom, or something, well, he knew she wasn't there. 

So, he had gone looking for them.

Their bedroom had been first. It looked the same as always, really. Mabel's half filled with soft stuffed animals, bright posters, glitter, and whatever mess she had made for herself while Dipper's side consisted of dirty laundry, books, papers, broken pens, and poster's filled with different conspiracy theories the kid had dreamed up of. 

He had checked under both beds and the closet. Nothing but mold stains and dust bunnies. 

He had went to the bathroom next. 

It was empty. 

After that, he had systematically checked every room, doing a clear sweep of it while both calling out the twin's names is ever gaining worry and listening deeply for any sound of their presence. 

There was nothing. 

The last room he checked also happened to be the one with the most evidence of where the twin's had ran off to. 

The living room was empty, yes, but also contained a happy Waddles digging into a bowl of popcorn and edible glitter (where Mabel even found that sort of shit he didn't even, or want, to know). Not only that, but the T.V was still on, premiering a new episode of Tiger Fist. 

By the freshness of the popcorn, he had known that the twins hadn't been gone long. 

And now here he was, staring out the window to the forest. 

The sun was still up, thank God and knowing both Dipper and Mabel, he knew that they would be safe as long as they were together. Even if Dipper had been acting colder to his sister since the...incident.

However, despite what he told himself, despite what he knew of his kids (his?), despite the warm sun, going down but still shining brightly, he had a feeling that something was terribly and utterly wrong. Wrong about the situation, wrong about his assumptions. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

He continued to glare at the woods. The woods. Woods full of mystery and wonder, terror and death. Woods that held a natural beauty and charm, but held dark and deadly secrets.

He felt slight nostalgia fill him as he watched the woods. How the twins would always gallant off into the woods before, not a care in the world, smiling and laughing, looking for adventure where ever they could find it.

They reminded him of his own glory days in the woods, where he would follow Stanley who was always scribbling what seemed to be every detail of nearly every blade of grass in his journals. 

The fights.

The laughs.

The near-death experiences.

Everything that made him and Stanley who they were today. 

He squared his shoulders, tightening his fists in his pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. He tried his best to always be prepared nowadays. 

“Stan? Why are you staring out the window?” A familiar voice asked from behind. 

Stan turned around to greet his brother. “The twins are gone. I think they ran out into the forest.”

Slight fear touched his brother's eyes and a small pang of sadness resonated within Stan. He remembered when mere mention of the woods would cause a bright, excited twinkle gather in Stanley's eyes. How he would nibble on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from bursting out random facts and trivia of the supernatural.

Back then, his brother had shined.

But now? Now it seemed that passion had burned him out. Burned him good.

Oh, he was still his brother, no doubt about that. From the weird quirks, to the glasses, even to the way he let himself get lost in books.

But their were differences. Subtle, but still there.

It was the way he looked around, like he was waiting for someone or, more likely, something to pop out and grab him. 

The way he looked all around before entering a room, briefly giving everything a mental once-over to make sure everything was safe and good. 

It was the way he took in everything. Cautious and careful while at the same time have a childlike wonder on how the world developed in the past thirty years, which both mixed and contrasted to his personality.

It was everything, really. All those little differences that made his brother a stranger to him.

Yet, it was all the little similarities that kept Stanley, well, Stanley. 

“Are you sure they went out there?” Stanley asked. 

“If they aren't here, they're in the woods.” He replied. 

Worry was still evident on his brother's face. 

“They'll be fine.” Stan reassured him. “Dipper never let's go of your journal and he wouldn't let anything harm Mabel.”

Stanley frowned. “I thought I took my journal back.” 

Stan snickered. “He's a sweaty twelve-year-old who wants to prove himself and is completely obsessed. Kinda reminds me of someone I know.”

Stanley shook his head. “Not anymore.” 

Stan felt his slight smile wilt a bit. Yup, his brother had definitely changed. But change isn't always bad. No, change could be very good at times. Change is needed, in fact, to keep the world turning and on it's toes. 

Stanley moved next to him, looking out the window as well. “The sun's going down. It's getting late.” He shot a sharp look at Stan.

Stan gave a small huff. Despite all the change, he still knew how to read his twin. “Yeah, yeah. I'll go fetch the two.” He grumbled, slightly relieved that Stanley brought up the idea instead of him. 

Stanley gave him a wane smile. “Good.”

“You stay here in case they come back.” Stan told him as he went and opened the door. He could feel the slight relief pouring off the other man. 

It wasn't that Stanley didn't love the twins; he did. It was hard not to warm up to Mabel's...interesting brand of humor and personality and Dipper...well, Stanley was the only one Dipper would really talk to nowadays without sounding like he was ready to die. Plus, it was easy to see Stanley in Dipper, both in personalities and quirks. (Such as the disgusting pen-chewing...) 

“Uh, good idea.” Stanley repeated, following him out the door to sit on the porch to wait.

And just like Stan predicted, his brother made sure to pause and slowly creep through the doorway, staring all around at every crack and crevice he could fine, making sure everything was completely and totally safe. 

Yup. Weird quirks. 

Saying one last goodbye to Stanley, he entered the forest, ignoring all the “helpful” tips and worried sentences thrown his way. Honestly, he's been living here over thirty years and though he might not be as young or as fit as he should be, he could still kick some ass if he needed too. 

It didn't take long for the woods to completely swallow him, separating him from the outside world. In all honesty, the forest bothered him to no end. The slight snuffling of questionable animals off in the distance, close enough just to hear but not enough to figure out what it could belong to. The slight rustling of both leaves overhead with the breeze and the dead leaves underneath him feet, slightly damp with the soil and decay. 

And, of course, the maddening sound of both his own thoughts and heartbeat. Seriously, you know it's to quiet when you can hear your own heartbeat. Why anyone would ever like silence like that would always be a mystery to him.

He grumbled under his own breath, trying to move his mind away from darker thoughts while filling the silence that stretched before him. He muttered about anything that came to mind. From annoying customers that would never make up their mind or see through him scams, to the laughably gullible people who bought into them, to Wendy's ever-annoying laziness to Soos's childishness. 

He muttered about Mabel being a morning person.

Mabel Juice as well. Nothing else really needed to be spoken on that matter. 

Her optimism, which was endearing at best and irritating at worst.

Stan moved on to another topic; the topic of the other twin.

The way his voice constantly cracked and how he seemed to sweat everywhere through everything, ignoring the fact that he went through the exactly same phase. 

The way he held himself up.

How nerdy he was. 

How uptight he could be.

The way he blabbered on and on about the supernatural or the forest or stupid conspiracies.

How his eyes used to light up when he found out something he didn't know before.

How he used to laugh and goof off with Mabel. 

How he always did his best to be there for her when times got tough.

How he always fought back. 

“I-I need to fix this.” Stan said out loud to himself, glad no one was around to hear him say it. He was done. He was done and tired of the distrust, the avoidance, the clipped tones.

He missed Dipper. 

The Dipper that was always so full of energy and intelligence, who, in his own way, shined just as bright as Mabel. 

Stan scowled, glad that thoughts were private. 

And he continued on, deeper into the forest. 

It didn't take long for it to get dark. Or for him to get horribly lost.

Dammit. He thought. If only I had a map...and a flashlight.

He paused, staring up at the sky, which was now mostly blocked by the leaves above. Even though the Milky Way shone bright, a band of stars only starting to be understood, he still couldn't see anything past dark shapes. 

The sounds of the forest didn't help either. The snuffling had morphed and crescendoed into a symphony of beastly growls and snarls, causing him to rip his fists out of his pockets, fully ready to fight back.

A part of him, a very, very, very large part of him told him to turn back. It was dark, he was tried, and he was completely done with the forest. 

Besides, Dipper and Mabel were probably home right now.

They had to be. Though he wasn't the most...orthodox or responsible guardian, even he set a time when both of them should be home and looking at the time, it was way pass curfew. Besides, they probably weren't even in the woods. Probably hanging around Wendy and her other teenage friends. Surely, that's what happened...

And yet, why did he feel that that was wrong? He knew, in a primordial, certain way that only family could know, that Dipper and Mabel were in these woods as well, most likely just as lost as well. 

He knew it, like a fact. Just like he knew he had ten toes, ten fingers, two arms and two legs. 

Letting out a slow sigh, he quietly calmed his nerves and continued on.

The shadows continued to watch him, it seemed. Watched and laughed at him. He continued to fight on. Part of him wanted to call out into the night for the twins...his twins. Call, and see if they were anywhere close.

But another, stronger, smarter part of him told him not to. It was instinctual, really. Don't call out into the night, don't give yourself attention in a situation like this. 

Calling out may bring the twins to him...

...But it could also lead other things to him as well.

…

It's best to just keep walking. He told himself.

Just keep walking, keep your eyes peeled, be aware of your surroundings. 

Be like Stanley. Be like Dipper. Be cautious. 

Ignore the shadows that followed him.

Ignore the gleaming eyes in the background.

Just keep walking to find the twins.

His twins.

His kids.

Find them so he could bring Mabel and Dipper back where they belonged, safe with family.

Home.

**Author's Note:**

> Next installment will be the last.


End file.
